


Does Angry Sex Work?

by sammichgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Season 9, Wincest - Freeform, holiday snippet, jealous!Dean, pissedoff!brothers, possessive!dean, wincestmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9241991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammichgirl/pseuds/sammichgirl
Summary: Season nine based Christmas snippet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Wincestmas 2015 on tumblr as a gift for random-fireworks.

Grantsburg, WI was just over 24 hours in the rearview mirror. A lifetime on the road made driving second nature to Dean and even though he felt numb, the Impala ate up backroads concrete as it continued on, almost as if on autopilot. 

They weren’t brothers anymore. They weren’t brothers anymore. Dean couldn’t wrap his head around it. It wasn’t something he could accept, or even say, or truly think about.

Sam had every right to be angry, to be truly pissed off. Logically, Dean knew that. But it was Sam, he couldn’t let him go, not his Sammy. Not again. Sam was more than just his brother, they were more than family. Dean couldn’t even define their relationship, it transcended any words he was sure existed. 

Besides, communication in speech wasn’t Dean’s strength. It was Sam’s way, not his own. Explaining how and why he’d done what he had to Sam in a way that made sense though? He didn’t even know where to start. And he knew if he tried right now, the blowout argument would be explosive and splinter any peace they were trying to build on. 

Every time Dean took a deep breath and glanced over, Sam was tensed. Words weren’t going to help right now. Self-medication seemed the right thing to do, and sleep not far behind it.

*****

A few hours later found both brothers at a roadside bar doing shots and chasing them with beers. Not that Dean expected it, but they didn’t salute each other or knock their bottles together. Their fingers didn’t slowly slide against each other and there was no teasing of tongues around rims of glasses. Sam played a couple rounds of darts with a few locals, his dimples barely playing over his face while Dean played pool, not feeling the energy to hustle tonight, and losing his second game as he missed what should have been easy shots. He was off his game. 

As he ordered another beer he watched Sam find his place back to the barstool he’d been reluctantly pulled from again by a flirting waitress wanting to slow dance. Dean felt a wave of sadness and longing wash over him that he could barely contain. Naturally, following that was a pang of jealousy. He racked up the balls to break a new game, his opening shot scratching in the pause of concentration.

Almost as if Sam could feel the shift in Dean from troubled and melancholy to observant he gave a roll of his shoulders, and let the tension slowly bleed out of him. Dean watched enthralled as Sam engaged the bartender in conversation, not minding the leggy buxom waitress that kept trying to hold his attention nor the guy to his right who kept letting his hand bump into Sam’s. Those dimples came full out, and in minutes he had a small audience completely charmed. 

The possessive streak in Dean flared, and he couldn’t even stop himself from throwing down his cue and walking over to his pain-in-the-ass little brother that he cherished more than anything in the world. He paid no attention to anyone around them as he reached in to cup Sam’s face and bending him backwards in a deep dip, planted a fervent kiss to those perfect pink lips. Sam’s gasp of surprise allowed him to tangle his tongue into the warm malty depth before he released him, pulling him back up. Their eyes met for a second before Dean turned around and walked out of the now completely silent bar.

Well, if they weren’t going to be brothers, Dean would just have to find another way to build a bridge back to Sam. Communication in action was his way. He was pretty damn sure they’d end up having some kind of words about that whole scene on the way to the motel anyway, but it was a start. He climbed into the Impala and waited for Sam. Angry hate-sex wouldn’t be so bad either, and they both needed to let the rage out somehow.


End file.
